


bush/maria 3

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 6-12-08</p>
    </blockquote>





	bush/maria 3

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 6-12-08

Hornblower dislikes women on his ships, but tonight he is at the Admiralty - with Lady Barbara - and Bush recognizes that it is a small concession he can make to appease the look on Maria Hornblower’s face as she realizes her husband has left her already though they’ve yet to sail.

He helps her into the jolly boat and rows her out himself, trying to keep an even keel as she turns slightly green, pregnancy and the pitch of the waves disagreeing with each other. He touches her as he helps her up, and he realizes that, save his mother with his sisters, he’s never touched a woman ripe with child, and there is something lush and different about it, even in the simple curve of a back and buttocks.

Not allowing himself to think, Bush guides her around the ship, telling her in simple statements what is what and answering her surprisingly insightful questions. When they reach Hornblower’s cabin, she walks around in silence, touching things as if she might leave something of herself behind for the voyage. She opens the compass that sits on his table and touches it, her smile almost a mockery of the word. 

“His true north is anywhere that I am not, isn’t it, Mr. Bush?”

“He loves the service.” 

“No.” Maria shakes her head and smiles ruefully, and he can tell the truth of this costs her by the pain in her face and the press of her hand to her swollen stomach. “Well, yes. He loves the service. He loves everything about it, and I cannot compare.”

“No one can,” Bush offers, the words sticking in his throat.

“I think we both know that is not true, Mr. Bush.” She continues to smile, moving away from the compass after shutting it and putting it back to rights, exactly where Hornblower had left it. “He trusts you, doesn’t he? With his ship.”

“As much as anyone, I would suppose. The captain must trust his crew, trust them to at least carry out his orders.” Bush takes a step toward her, the small cabin seeming more crowded as he draws closer. 

“He trusts you with everything. Trusts you to do as you must.” She faces him and he can see the acceptance in her gaze, the resigned acknowledgement that this is what it is and no more. Bush reaches out and curves a hand over her breast before he kisses the skin of her neck and tastes her, saying Hornblower’s goodbyes.


End file.
